


Charmed 211: Sins Of The Fathers

by Metal_Ox137



Series: Charmed AU2 [11]
Category: Charmed (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-23
Updated: 2016-04-23
Packaged: 2018-06-03 21:46:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6627733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Metal_Ox137/pseuds/Metal_Ox137
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prue, Phoebe and Paige confront Sam Wilder about his past.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Charmed 211: Sins Of The Fathers

It was the last Saturday of April, the weekend after Easter Sunday, and in the city of San Francisco, the early morning was cool but sunny - with a promise of a glorious early spring day ahead. In a modest apartment at the edge of Chinatown, Phoebe Halliwell was dozing insensibly, leaving a fair sized puddle of drool on her boyfriend Kai's bare chest. Phoebe had seen precious little of her lover over the last three weeks, and when an opportune Friday night left them both free, they quickly secluded themselves for an evening of torrid lovemaking that had only ceased when they had mutually exhausted each other, about an hour before dawn.  
The unusually bright sunlight poured in through the bedroom window, and groggily Phoebe raised her head, squinting with irritation. _If only I had Paige's power right now,_ she wished silently. _Those curtains would be snapped shut with the bat of one evil eye._  
She settled her head back down on Kai's chest, and belatedly realized she was resting her cheek in her own spit. Her whole body ached - but it was a good ache, and with it, a memory of a happy night.  
Realizing she wasn't going to be able to fall asleep again, Phoebe sighed resignedly and rolled over onto her back. She needed to be up and awake this morning anyway - her baby sister Paige was going to need her help today, and she needed to be ready.  
Kai stirred and started to raise his head, suddenly realizing he was literally all wet. He grunted in surprise. Phoebe grinned ruefully at him.  
"Sorry," she apologized, in a voice not much more than a whisper.  
Kai merely chuckled, and wiped himself down as best he could; he rolled over and Phoebe happily spooned herself into him.  
"Good morning," he murmured, kissing her cheek.  
"Mmm." Phoebe closed her eyes, hoping with her back to the window she might be able to steal a few more precious minutes of sleep, but her mind was kick-starting with the plans she needed to make. When her eyes fluttered open again, the first thing they settled on was the alarm clock next to the bed. The clock face showed it was just after nine. Muttering an oath under her breath, she sat up, and Kai propped himself up on one elbow, staring at her through sleep-swollen eyes.  
"Do you have to leave?" he sighed forlornly.  
"I wish I could spend all day here, with you," Phoebe admitted. "But I really have to go. My sister Paige and I have big plans for today."  
"Oh, really? Like what?"  
"Binding an angel in chains, and dragging him screaming down to earth."  
Kai mulled that over for a moment. "I'm not sure if you're joking or not," he confessed finally.  
"Well - I might be exaggerating a little," Phoebe admitted. "But not by much."  
"Uh huh. Is this one of those supernatural witchy spell things?"  
_"Witchy spell things?"_  
"Well, whatever you call them."  
"I guess it is, yeah."  
Kai shook his head, grinning. "Sounds kinky to me."  
"Oh, sweetie, we witches are far more kinky than you can possibly imagine," Phoebe gave her lover a wicked grin.  
"Really." Kai arched an eyebrow playfully. "Does that mean I should go out and buy a length of nylon rope?"  
"Only if I'm the one tying _you_ up," Phoebe retorted.  
Kai burst out laughing. "I should have figured you'd be the dom," he chortled.  
"Oh, I can be sweetly submissive, too," Phoebe assured him. "In the right circumstances."  
"Mmm. You'll have to enlighten me."  
Phoebe leaned in to give Kai a lingering kiss. "I only have two rules about sex," she whispered in his ear. "Gentle, and safe. You follow those - you'll find I'm up for almost anything."  
"You certainly are a most interesting woman, Phoebe Halliwell," Kai said with genuine admiration. "I've never met anyone quite like you before."  
"Thanks. That's one of the nicest compliments you've given me." She gave him another quick kiss, a light, teasing brush across his lips.  
Reluctantly, she reached over the side of the bed to retrieve her discarded clothing, and began to shrug herself into her t-shirt. Kai looked at her wistfully.  
"Oh, don't look so dismayed," Phoebe admonished him playfully. "It's not the last time you'll see me naked."  
"Sweetie, I'm a guy," Kai protested. "The less you wear, the better you look."  
She leaned over and kissed him again.  
"I want us to promise each other something."  
"Like what?"  
"We need to start being more selfish. A lot more selfish. A lot more time for us. I don't want to go days without seeing you ever again."  
Kai smiled. "I'd really like that, Phoebe."  
"I mean it. Demons notwithstanding, or burning buildings, or anything else that comes up. Because something always does. And I know I'm the worst offender in that regard."  
"Hey, you had to take care of your sister. I get that. Is she doing better?"  
"Two weeks stone cold sober, and counting."  
"That's a start."  
"She's getting better at telling me when she's struggling. That's the best sign I've seen yet."  
"That is good," Kai nodded solemnly. "I've only seen the two of you together a couple of times, but you seem incredibly close, even for sisters."  
"Paige and I didn't grow up together as kids. I only met her a few months ago."  
"That's amazing."  
"The amazing part is, we had no idea we were sisters when we first met. We just - clicked. Right from that first moment."  
"I don't know. I kind of envy you. I have three brothers, but for me it's not the same."  
"You're not close to them?"  
"Well, part of the problem is none of us lives anywhere close to each other - one is even still in China," Kai sighed, and then he grinned. "But hey, at least half my family doesn't live in another dimension like yours does."  
"Kai, I'm so sorry, I know this gets seriously weird sometimes."  
"Hey, I got over that the night you made your witch confession. Don't worry about it. I'm glad you trust me enough to share these things."  
"Well, I knew right off you were someone I could trust."  
Kai raised an eyebrow. "Does this mean we're ready to exchange apartment keys?" he asked playfully.  
"I'm - actually thinking about that," Phoebe nodded, and then she grinned. "But I want no more gaps in our love life. For one thing, it makes me really sore if we try to cram a week's worth of sex into one night." She winced slightly.  
Kai frowned with worry. "I didn't hurt you, did I?"  
"No," Phoebe assured him hurriedly, then kissed him again. "Are you free for dinner Sunday night?"  
"I'll make sure I am."  
"Even if the city is burning down?" Phoebe giggled.  
"I'm sure somebody will take care of it."  
"Then it's a date."  
"Any place in particular you'd like to go?"  
Phoebe thought for a moment. "Someplace casual," she said finally. "I have a feeling this weekend is going to be kind of intense. I'd like to go somewhere to wind down."  
Kai frowned. "Phoebe, this - this _thing_ you're doing ... you're not going to be in any kind of danger, are you?"  
"NO," she assured him emphatically. "I'm going with Paige to meet her birth father. He gave her up for adoption when she was an infant. And even if the reunion goes well - I just have a feeling it's going to be exhausting, for both of us."  
"Well, then I'll find someplace quiet, where we can have a nice, relaxing meal, and you can tell me all about it. For better or worse."  
"Thank you." Phoebe kissed him again, a long, lingering kiss. "If you keep on being this perfect, I might just fall in love with you," she added softly.  
"I'm already in way over my head with you," Kai admitted. "But you probably already knew that."  
Kai pulled her close, and the conversation wilted under a breathless string of long, torrid kisses. 

* * * 

It was some time later that Phoebe wearily trudged into the apartment she shared with her sister. Paige Matthews was sitting on the couch in the great room, still in her bathrobe, clinging to her cup of tea as a tether to consciousness. Her long, dark hair was severely tousled, and she looked up at her sister and smiled at her, bleary-eyed.  
Phoebe took one look at her sister, snorted with amusement and settled in on the couch beside her.  
"I think I got about three and a half hours of sleep," she announced. "How about you?"  
"About the same," Paige grinned wearily. "I only chased Henry out of here about ten minutes ago. We're a pair, aren't we?"  
"Two hour power nap?" Phoebe pleaded.  
"Yes, please." Paige was only too willing to accept that concession.  
"But only two," Phoebe admonished. "We have work to do today."  
"Agreed." She smiled gratefully. "Thanks for helping me with this, Pheeble."  
"I would do anything for you," Phoebe declared solemnly.  
Paige set her teacup on the coffee table, and by unspoken consent, the sisters cuddled together on the couch, Phoebe drawing up a heavy quilt to cover them as they lay down. Almost instantly, both were fast asleep. 

Shortly after lunchtime, after quickly consuming some dim sum, spring rolls and a pot of green tea, the sisters returned the living room, showered, dressed and much refreshed, ready to tackle the serious discussion of dealing with Paige's father.  
"So, I've been giving this some thought," Phoebe said, settling herself into her favorite chair, while Paige returned to the couch. "I think it's safe to assume your father is going to do whatever he can, to avoid us -"  
"That's for sure," Paige sighed glumly.  
"He's hurting, Paige. And he's carrying lot of guilt where you're concerned. We have to give him an opportunity to work past that."  
"So we're going to have to find a safe way to coerce him."  
"Well, certainly we have to find a way to bring the two of you together, without his cooperation."  
"You mean a summoning spell?"  
"We _could_ summon your father, yes. But my guess is, if we did that, he'd just orb away the moment he saw us, and that would be that."  
"So, what do we do?"  
"We can tweak the summoning spell slightly - and turn it into a locating spell. As long as Sam hasn't left the general vicinity of San Francisco or Oakland, we should be able to find him."  
"Yeah, but what good will that do us? Even if we know where he is, what's to keep him from just orbing away from us the moment we show up?"  
"That's why we need an element of surprise. We want to orb somewhere close by, without him seeing us."  
"You want to cast a binding spell," Paige exclaimed, suddenly grasping Phoebe's intentions.  
"You're getting smarter, baby sister," Phoebe grinned. "We can slap a binding spell on him before he spots us, and then he can't orb away."  
"A captive audience," Paige said brightly.  
"You could put it like that," Phoebe laughed. "Mind you, we don't want to hurt him, or otherwise physically restrain him - we just want to prevent him from using his ability to orb."  
"And how are we going to do that?"  
"Well, I'm sorry about this, Paige, but - you're the only other White Lighter I know. At least, the only one living here in this version of San Francisco. I'd need to practice on you."  
"Oh, swell," Paige huffed sourly.  
"Hey, I'm your sister," Phoebe said soothingly. "If I'm gonna humiliate you, I promise, I'll tell you beforehand." Her look of innocence dissolved into a wicked grin.  
"That's not funny, Pheeble."  
"Seriously, Paige, I doubt any spell I could cast is going to hold a White Lighter for very long," Phoebe admitted. "But - Sam may not know that, and we certainly don't want to let on that he could get away. So even if we can prevent him from orbing for just a few seconds, that might be enough to convince him he has to face you, and start answering some questions."  
"Okay, I'm game. How do we turn the summoning spell into a locator spell?"  
"Most of the spell's components will be exactly the same. We'll need to change a couple of the ingredients, though. We're hunting a White Lighter, not a witch. I don't suppose you have anything that belongs to Sam? A lock of hair would be perfect."  
"Sorry, Pheeble, I didn't have a chance to shake him down the first time we met."  
"Well - there is always the old fashioned way. Blood to blood."  
"Huh?"  
"You're his daughter. You share bloodlines. We could use your blood to help find your father."  
_"My_ blood? What, you mean - you have to _cut_ me?"  
"Lots of spells require a witch's blood, Paige. This would be one of them."  
"Oh, man," Paige groaned. "Do we _have_ to?"  
"We don't _have to_ do anything," Phoebe pointed out. "We can just let the whole matter drop, never find out anything about your father, or what happened to him - or our mom, either. It's your choice."  
"Oh, no pressure there, Pheeble, thanks a lot."  
"Sweetie, I'm not going to cut your finger off, or anything. A couple of drops of blood should be all we need. One pinprick on your thumb should do the trick."  
"That - doesn't sound so bad," Paige quavered, and Phoebe burst into a fit of giggles.  
"What's so funny?" Paige demanded.  
"I was just remembering the first time that Prue, Piper and I had to cast a spell that used our own blood. Piper couldn't even manage to poke herself. I had to do it for her."  
"And I suppose now you just slice yourselves any time, without even thinking about it."  
"Actually ... I try to avoid spells that call for my own blood," Phoebe admitted. "I'll do it if I have to. But only when I have to."  
"And this is one of those 'have to' times, isn't it?"  
"I'm sorry, Paige, I'm afraid it is."  
"Oh, that's just swell," Paige grumbled, but then gamely resigned herself to the course of action. "Okay, so what comes first?"  
"For the first spell, the locating spell, we'd need to set up our altar," Phoebe suggested. "We'll need an athame -"  
"A _what?"_  
"That little silver dagger I picked up from Mr. Feng's shop a couple of months back? Come to think of it, I haven't seen it recently..."  
"Oh. I put it in the desk drawer."  
"What? Why?"  
"I thought it was just some weird letter opener."  
Phoebe grimaced with dismay.  
"Uhh, no. It's not. And I guess if we want to keep it sharp enough to draw blood painlessly in the future, don't open any more bills with it."  
"Right," Paige declared solemnly.  
"We'll also need the small silver bowl to use as a cauldron."  
"I've been putting my lollipop stash in there," Paige protested.  
Phoebe sighed wearily. "Paige -!"  
"Okay, okay, I'll find something else to use for my candy bowl. Fine."  
"Let's see - for summoning, we would normally use rosemary, yarrow root, holly and cypress - we'll need to replace some of those - let me think," Phoebe frowned. "We'll need some holy water. And a schisandra root."  
"The Chinese superberry!" Paige exclaimed. "I actually know that one. And I think we have some in the pantry. The root, I mean."  
"Awesome. That will help. You really should be eating some of the fruit from the schisandra vine, by the way. It's good for your liver."  
Paige made a face. "Yeah, I know, but it tastes really weird."  
_"Wu wei zi,_ Paige. The five flavors - sweet, sour, salty, bitter and pungent - all at once. It won't make your yogurt taste any better."  
"That's for sure," Paige declared with a shudder, and Phoebe laughed, realizing her sister had tried at least once to do just that. "Okay, that should take care of the first spell. It's actually the second spell I'm having trouble with."  
"You mean, how to stop a White Lighter. What's wrong with a simple binding spell, like you said?" Paige objected.  
"We could try that," Phoebe nodded. "But now that I'm thinking about it, I doubt it would work. I don't know that much about White Lighters, but what I do know is that their powers have a divine origin. An evil sorceress might attempt to bind such a power, or warp it, but that way wouldn't be part of the Wiccan rede."  
"You mean, demons try to do that kind of stuff, but we shouldn't."  
"Well, and more importantly, we want something that won't harm either you or Sam. I don't even want to consider anything that might inflict damage on any of us."  
Paige frowned, thinking. "Well, if you don't want to tackle the power directly, what about indirectly?"  
"Like what?"  
"I dunno - an invisible wall of magical energy, maybe?" Paige suggested hesitantly. "When he tries to orb away, let him run smack into the wall he can't see? Or just throw a ball of energy in his way, so he trips over it?"  
"Paige!" Phoebe exclaimed with delight. "You're a genius!"  
"I am?"  
"That's a _wonderful_ idea!"  
"Oh. I thought it was kinda stupid," Paige admitted shyly.  
"No, no, it's a perfect solution. It wouldn't be attempting to bind or subvert a divine power. It's brilliant!"  
"Oh, good."  
"Well, and since we have to practice with you - like I said, we don't want anything that will hurt you."  
"Yeah, because running headfirst into a wall won't do me any harm at all," Paige retorted.  
"Well, for testing purposes, we'll try something where you can basically throw yourself against the surface of a barrier," Phoebe mused aloud, calculating. "Just enough to make sure your orbing powers can't get past it. This will be a little tricky, though. I'm not sure when you're orbing if your body still has a material aspect."  
"Hey, don't look at me. I barely figured out how to move from one place to another, let alone know how it works."  
"Just one more thing to add to the long list of questions for your father."  
"Would Prue know?" Paige asked hopefully. "She kind of gave me Whitelighter 101. She might have some idea."  
"Do we want to involve Prue in this? She'll probably tell us to be, well, sensible."  
Paige thought that over for a moment. "Let's call her," she decided. "I'm still trying to live down my little boozefest. I want her to know she can trust me."  
"Sweetie, of course she trusts you," Phoebe protested.  
"I know," Paige answered. "But I still feel like I have something to prove. And besides - if both you and Prue think it's a good idea, then it probably is."  
The sisters brought the phone over to the kitchen island, then perched themselves on the barstools while Paige called Prue's apartment. As the phone picked up, Paige put the call on the speakerphone.  
"Hey, Phoebe, hey, Paige," Prue's voice crackled over the tiny speaker.  
"Hey, yourself," Paige answered. "And how do you know it's us calling, when you don't even have a Pheeblephone?"  
Prue burst out laughing. "I don't need Phoebe's powers of premonition to know when you guys are going to call me. Once you get better at sensing magical energy, you'll spot those kinds of things a mile off."  
"We have a White Lighter question for you."  
"This wouldn't just happen to have anything to do with your father, by any chance, would it?"  
Paige and Phoebe exchanged a terse glance.  
"Yeah," Paige admitted finally.  
"Then orb yourselves on over here," Prue suggested. "I have tea and cookies almost ready, and whatever you guys are planning, I want in on it."  
"We're on our way."  
Paige disconnected the call and grinned at Phoebe. "Best. Big. Sister. EVER," she declared emphatically, and Phoebe burst into peals of laughter.

* * *

Prue had peppermint tea and fresh-baked chocolate chip cookies on the table as her sisters arrived. Prue's four year old daughter Patience greeted each of her aunties with all the force and energy of a three foot tall tornado.  
"Auntie Phoebe! Auntie Paige!" she squealed with delight, hugging them both above the kneecaps.  
"Hey, sweetie," Paige returned the greeting, scooping the child up into her arms. "How's my favorite cuddle fish?"  
"Can we go to the park?"  
"Well, your Auntie Phoebe and I need to talk to your mommy first."  
"That's okay," Patience assured them. "She's baking cookies."  
"It always smells amazing in here," Phoebe admitted, as Prue came out of the kitchen.  
"Sorry," Prue smiled ruefully at her sisters. "I'm eating for two now, and I've reached the point where I'm getting hungry all the time."  
"I'm going to have to live at the gym after this," Phoebe sighed, as they settled themselves in at the dinette.  
"Nahh, you and Kai will just burn it off in one sweat-soaked morning," Paige quipped. "Do you know what your little sister does, after she has sex?" she asked Prue. "She and the boyfriend put on their track shoes, and go out for a run. And _then_ they go to the gym. Just one marathon after another."  
"I think you got that backwards, Paige," Phoebe laughed.  
"It's nice to have someone who shares your interests," Prue said mildly, putting teacups and plates in front of her sisters. Patience returned from the living room, coloring book and crayons in hand, and hopped up into Paige's lap.  
"It's nice to have someone who can join me for a morning run," Phoebe nodded. "And he's not put off by witchy stuff at all. He says it's nice to have a girlfriend who understands the flow of ch`i."  
"He sounds very ... enlightened," Prue smiled. "Both Andy and Darryl had to work through their apprehensions before they were accepting of the craft."  
"Henry doesn't seem to mind it," Phoebe observed.  
"He was a little freaked out when I first started moving things around," Paige admitted. "Now, he's like, 'Hey, baby, can you get that extra grocery bag?' "  
Phoebe laughed. "Well, and I'm sure he used Darryl as a support group, too."  
"I have no doubt, the two of them have had many long talks about what it's like, having a witch for a girlfriend," Prue admitted, joining them at the table. "I'm just so grateful they've accepted it."  
Phoebe's expression grew thoughtful, almost somber. "I know we're here to talk about Sam, but I want to ask you guys something."  
"Sure, Phoebe, what's on your mind?" Prue began pouring tea for all of them.  
"What do you think about our other sisters giving up their powers?"  
"You already know what I think," Paige pointed out. "They're boneheads."  
"Paige." Prue remonstrated mildly. "I think they're frightened. And I think Paige's other self is terrified."  
"That's what I don't get, though. Prue and Piper, at least, had their powers for months before I vanished. And they really seemed like they were getting comfortable with being witches."  
"A lot of their comfort level obviously came from you, Phoebe."  
"They never said anything to me, though."  
Prue smiled sadly. "It's not always easy to tell someone you love that you actually love them. Sometimes it's hard to get past the baggage."  
"Tell me about it," Phoebe sighed disconsolately.  
"Did you ever talk to your sisters about this kinda stuff?" Paige asked.  
Prue had to purse her lips before answering. "I never did," she admitted sadly. "And to this day, I can't help but wonder, how different things might have been, if I'd just been a little more open with them."  
She smiled at her sisters. "I can't change what's past. I'm just trying not to repeat those mistakes now."  
Phoebe took a long sip at her teacup and set it down. "I think that's why I stayed," she said, her voice almost inaudible. She looked at Prue, her eyes wide and very sober. "Because you say to me all the things I wish my other sisters would have said."  
"They don't love you any less, Phoebe," Prue assured her.  
"I know."  
"And I think you've found, especially after this last visit, they won't take that relationship for granted ever again."  
"Nor will I," Phoebe echoed somberly.  
There was a moment's respite, as each of the sisters took some tea and a cookie.  
"You think the other me is terrified of being a witch?" Paige asked Prue, after a moment.  
"Well, of course she is," Prue answered. "Her powers manifested without warning, when she was an adult. She had no preparation, no inkling really, of her heritage. And a demon tried to kill her before she even had any idea of how powerful she is. And particularly with a power like premonition - it can be extremely unsettling. It takes a very balanced mind and spirit to accept such a power, and to use it wisely."  
Phoebe smiled inwardly at the compliment that had just been handed to her. "Do you think they'll ever go back to the craft?" she asked.  
"If you're asking me should we force the issue, the answer is no," Prue said firmly. "It must be their choice. They have their own lives to lead, and they have to decide for themselves what they will and won't live with. I'm hopeful," she added cautiously, "Once they've spent some more time with us, they might be coaxed back into the world of magic. But we shouldn't bring the topic up. Let them decide when they're ready to talk about it."  
"I'm really not good with the whole waiting thing," Phoebe admitted.  
Prue smiled sympathetically. "That's the Halliwell nature shining through," she noted. "But however hard it is, set those feelings aside, Phoebe. When the time is right, our sisters will ask for help. And I think it's very likely you'll be the sister they ask."  
After another round of cookies, Paige implored, "So, can we ask you about White Lighters now?"  
"Sure - but I think I already know what you're going to ask me. You want to be able to talk to Sam without him orbing away the moment he sees you."  
Paige gaped at Prue open-mouthed. "How the hell do you know -" she started to say, but Prue gave her a look of admonishment. Paige grimaced.  
"Sorry, sorry," she apologized profusely. "I keep forgetting, little ears." She kissed her niece on the cheek, and Patience wriggled with pleasure, although her focus remained on her coloring book. "I'm just starting to feel like my head is made of glass."  
"We are as curious about your father as you are, Paige. And we have good reason to want to talk to him, too."  
"Pheeble thinks if we can bind him, at least prevent him from orbing, even for a minute, maybe we could have a chance to talk to him."  
"And binding a White Lighter is especially difficult, because of the nature of the power."  
"Exactly."  
"Well, that's simple. For yang, you need a yin."  
Phoebe and Paige exchanged a puzzled look.  
"You need a dark power, equal and opposite to Sam's."  
Phoebe frowned. "You're not suggesting using _demonic_ powers?" she asked trepidatiously.  
"Actually, I am."  
"Prue -!"  
"Hang on a minute, Phoebe," Prue said with a tolerant smile. "I'm not advocating the use of black magic. I consider that an unacceptable risk."  
"Well, thank goodness for that," Phoebe sighed with relief.  
"But I think I have just the thing to help you. Sit tight."  
She got up from the table, and disappeared into her bedroom. A few moments later, she returned with a locket on a tarnished gold chain. She offered it to Paige, who took it dubiously.  
"What's this?"  
"A charm I got from Rex Buckland. That little locket there contains a minuscule amount of dark magical energy - and a few drops of demon blood."  
_"Ugh,"_ Paige shuddered, setting the locket down quickly on the table.  
Prue laughed. "It's harmless, Paige. There isn't enough magical energy to do any real harm to anyone. But - if you want to cast a binding spell, you'd need to use this as one of the key ingredients."  
"Actually, we were thinking more along the lines of putting up a mystical barrier," Phoebe said. "A sort of magical wall that Sam wouldn't be able to climb over."  
"Even better," Prue nodded.  
"Do you have lots of trinkets and gifts from your demon boyfriend?" Paige asked pointedly.  
"Rex is not my boyfriend, Paige."  
"You could fool me."  
If Prue was bristling at the accusation, she didn't show it. "Yin and yang, Paige, remember? Male and female. Darkness and light. Life and death. None of these things can exist without their counterparts. The question is, striking the right balance between them."  
She picked up the locket and looked at it thoughtfully. "The power in here isn't much, but it can be the lattice - the framework - on which your magic wall is built. And that should allow you to hold Sam just long enough to convince him he can't run away."  
"Are you going to help us, Prue?" Phoebe asked.  
"Of course," Prue answered with a somber smile. "I have a whole list of questions of my own for Sam Wilder. But Paige is first in line."  
"That's the problem," Paige sighed. "Even if he can't run away, I'm pretty sure he's just going to freak out, the moment he sees me."  
"I agree," said Phoebe Halliwell. "That's why the first one of us Sam sees is going to be me."

* * *

The beautiful spring morning had given way to an almost perfect afternoon, with warm, golden sunlight spilling out and drenching the city; light, cool breezes that refreshed instead of chilled; and only a handful of cumulus clouds, white and puffy like oversized cotton balls, wafting lazily through the air.  
As was his custom in the afternoons, Sam Wilder was walking through Golden Gate park, on the path circling Stow Lake, heading towards his favorite spot near Strawberry Hill. Even on crowded days, the natural tranquility of the spot did much to calm his troubled soul - at least long enough to give him reason to return each day. This afternoon, the path was surprisingly almost entirely deserted of foot traffic, but he did not think to dwell on that. He saw a young woman approaching in the distance, wearing jeans, boots and a grey jumper - but he took little note of her, deciding to step off the path near a shaded spot with an inviting park bench.  
Hearing soft footfalls coming up behind him, he turned, and was startled to see that the woman was none other than Phoebe Halliwell, making straight towards him. She gave him a neutral smile when they were only a few feet apart. "Hello, Sam," she greeted him. "Lovely afternoon, isn't it?"  
Wilder's reaction was simple and direct. A swarm of white lights circled his body, and he appeared to vanish - only to reappear a moment later, falling to ground as if he'd been thrown there. A cry of frustration and anger escaped his lips. _"Damn_ it -!" He pounded the earth beneath him futilely with his fist.  
"Oh, that was stupid, Sam," Phoebe tutted. "You should know better than to try escaping the wrath of an angry witch."  
"For the love of God, can't you leave me alone?" Wilder cried piteously. He sat up gingerly, carefully feeling his nose.  
"Oh, for goodness' sake," Phoebe sighed. "It's not even broken. If I wanted to hurt you, trust me, you'd know."  
"What do you want with me?" Wilder's voice was pitched, but not with anger; he seemed genuinely aggrieved. "Why can't you just let me be?"  
"I'd love to do nothing more than that," Phoebe said evenly. "In fact, once we're finished here, you never need to see me again, if that's what you really want. But you and I are going to have a nice, long conversation first."  
Wilder looked up at her, resignation in his eyes. Phoebe held out her hand to him, and after a moment's hesitation, he took it; and the young witch pulled the disheveled man to his feet. She helped him brush himself off, so he could regain some sense of self-possession; then she indicated the nearby bench.  
"Let's have a seat," she suggested.  
They settled themselves on the bench. Wilder sighed heavily and leaned forward, elbows on his knees, staring out at nothing in particular.  
"Sam, I know this is difficult for you," Phoebe began.  
"No. You really don't," Wilder said flatly.  
"I really do," Phoebe countered quietly. "My gift is seeing into the heart. I know exactly what you're feeling - and how badly you're hurting."  
Wilder glared at Phoebe angrily, tears welling in his eyes. "You had no right."  
"I'm sorry, Sam. It's my gift. I can't exactly shut it off."  
"I meant blocking me from orbing."  
"Oh. Well, I'd rather not have done that, either. But you haven't exactly given me and my sisters much of a choice."  
Wilder's expression relaxed somewhat. "So you're the one who can read souls," he sighed. "Patty said one of you would."  
"It doesn't necessarily make me any wiser," Phoebe said somberly. "If it did, we wouldn't be sitting here now, while I try to figure out how to make sense of all this - for both of us."  
Wilder absently scratched his cheek with the back of his thumb. "So, what happens now?" he asked.  
"It's time for some answers, Sam. You owe my sister that much."  
Wilder nodded forlornly. "I guess I do."  
"There's no need for you to be apart from her any more. Whatever it is you've been afraid of, it doesn't matter now."  
"No," Wilder said brokenly. "It's worse."  
"Then talk to me. Tell me what's troubling you."  
Wilder looked at Phoebe and spread his hands helplessly. "I don't know where to start."  
Phoebe mulled that over, considering. "Why we don't we start with a little church in San Francisco, say, twenty-three years ago."  
Wilder hung his head.  
"Let me try to help you with this, Sam. When we first started looking for you, I had a premonition of what happened that day. I know my mom was with you. And whatever the two of decided, I know it broke your hearts."  
Huge tears began to spill down Wilder's cheeks. "It was forbidden," he croaked.  
Phoebe frowned. "Your love for my mom?"  
"Not just that." Wilder wiped the tears away with the back of his hands. Then he shrugged resignedly. "Children like Paige were never meant to brought into this world," he said at last. "Witch and White Lighter in one bloodline. That pretty much breaks every rule in the book."  
He stole a furtive glance at Phoebe, but she was simply listening, not judging.  
"Patty and I knew we had to keep our child a secret. From everyone. She would be a target from demons and angels alike."  
"I'm pretty sure God knew about it, Sam."  
Wilder barked a short, mirthless laugh. "No doubt," he agreed. "And we lived in abject terror of His wrath. Fear and trembling, as Kierkegaard might say." He angrily wiped more tears away. "Patty and I knew we couldn't protect her. Not if her identity was known. Even her sisters knew nothing about Patty and me. We finally decided, it was in her best interests if she grew up knowing nothing about her parents, too." He swallowed hard. "Not a day goes by, I don't think about it. I held that little girl in my arms, this beautiful little child, so innocent, so - so miraculous ... and when I h-handed her over to the nuns, I - I - " he halted abruptly, unable to continue. He let out a long, ragged sigh. "Second worst day of my life," he said finally.  
"Second worst?"  
"The worst was the day Patty died. I always thought one of the archangels would come to punish us one day. That day sure felt like the wrath of God to me."  
Phoebe looked at Wilder in dismay. "You're not saying an _angel_ was the cause of mom's death?"  
"No, no, of course not," Wilder said hastily. His face grew sorrowful. "But they stood by and watched - and made me stand by and watch - when the water demon took her."  
"You _saw_ her die?" Phoebe was aghast.  
"And so did your sister. Prue. She couldn't have been more than eight years old." Noting Phoebe's shocked reaction, he added, "I guess she doesn't talk about it much."  
Phoebe closed her eyes for a moment, swallowing hard.  
"Sam," she said, her voice faltering, "Whatever punishment you think God and His angels meted out to you, whether that's right or wrong, why didn't you go to your daughter? Why did you let her grow up alone? You've been an arm's reach away this whole time. I can't know what might have happened otherwise, but - if you had been there for her, at least she would have had one parent, and she would have known that she was loved and cared for."  
"I wanted to," Wilder protested. "I really did. But - when Patty died - _I_ died. How could I possibly explain something like that to her?"  
"She would understand."  
Wilder shook his head. "No. To understand that kind of pain, you have to live through it."  
"But didn't she?" Phoebe asked, not intending to be cruel, but there was no way the question wouldn't cut deep. "You lost your wife, but she lost her mother. And as far as she knew, her father too. She grew up thinking she'd been abandoned. She was just as lost and alone as you were."  
More tears spilled over Wilder's dirty cheeks.  
"My poor child," he sobbed.  
Phoebe felt hot tears stinging her own eyes, and for a few moments, they sat side-by-side, each awash in their own private sorrow.  
Phoebe reached into her purse, took out a packet of tissues, handed one to Wilder, then pulled another for herself. Wilder took the tissue gratefully.  
After a few moments, Phoebe managed to compose herself. She stared out into the bright mid-spring morning, not really seeing it.  
"You really do love her, then."  
"Of course I do," Wilder ruffed. "Just because I'm a loser and a drunk doesn't mean I don't have feelings for her."  
"Then you should tell her."  
Wilder shook his head. "She's better off without me. Besides, she already has two families. The Matthews family, and now you. I couldn't ask for better."  
"But she could."  
Wilder looked at Phoebe in puzzlement.  
"You could give her so much, Sam. Maybe you think you have nothing to offer, but that's not true. More than anyone alive, you can help her understand who she is and where she comes from. And the truth is, you could do that much for all of us."  
Wilder mulled that over for a long moment, considering. "I've seen you with her," he said, finally breaking the silence. "I've watched the two of you. You love each other like no one else I know. I didn't think that kind of love was even possible." He paused. "I watched my daughter from afar for years. Hoping she wouldn't grow up to be a complete mess, like her father. I watched her struggle. Watched her claw her way up to find a place in the world, with everything against her. Prayed that any divine wrath there was to be suffered would be directed at me, not her. Then you came into her life - and before God, that was the first time I saw my child truly happy. It was - like a miracle," he marveled. "Like a sign of forgiveness."  
Phoebe bit her lip, and bowed her head.  
"You can't live without hope, Sam."  
"No. You surely can't," he agreed somberly.  
"Then let me help you find that hope again."  
Wilder regarded her with a despairing look. "What kind of hope can there be, for someone like me?" he asked, almost bitterly.  
Phoebe pursed her lips, mulling over her answer before replying. "My sister Prue often wondered the same thing," she admitted. "She thought she was guilty of a sin so great, that God could never forgive her."  
Wilder frowned. "What kind of sin could she possibly be guilty of?"  
"She raised her sister Piper from the dead."  
Despite himself, Wilder shuddered. "Okay. She's got me there," he conceded. "I thought clipping my wings was pretty bad. But that one's right up there."  
"She found her forgiveness."  
Wilder looked at Phoebe in genuine surprise.  
"How?" he asked.  
"That's the glory of divine forgiveness. There's nothing it can't absolve, if the sinner is truly penitent."  
"But how did she know she was forgiven?" Wilder pressed.  
"Because her family was given back to her." Phoebe smiled tearfully. "She found me. She found - Paige. And we were able to cast the spell to receive our powers. To be Charmed again. Twice in one lifetime. Second chances like that don't just happen."  
Wilder sat back, absorbing what he had just been told.  
"So my daughter is -"  
"Alive. And well. And anxious to meet you."  
Wilder winced. "We've met already," he pointed out. "It didn't go so well."  
"No. It didn't," Phoebe agreed. "But you weren't ready for that first meeting, and neither was she. And I think both of you should give each other another chance. Let me make a suggestion."  
"Sure."  
"Whatever's happened in the past, well, it's done now. For good or ill. We can't change it. We can only change what happens next."  
She regarded the man with a sorrowful smile. "You _have_ a family, Sam Wilder. You have a daughter who would be overjoyed to get to know you - the _real_ you. And you have two stepdaughters who would like nothing more than to have that same chance. There is so much you could do for all of us, Sam. So much history you could share. All the things our mother knew, felt, or hoped for - that's all with you now. And you could make our lives so much better, by sharing that with us. Be part of our family. We _need_ you. I can say that without reservation. We need you."  
Wilder's expression wavered between hope and self-pity, vacillating so intensely Phoebe needed no magical powers to see it.  
"I'm just an old man. A drunkard," he protested feebly.  
Phoebe shook her head. "You are a White Lighter -"  
_"Was_ a White Lighter," Wilder corrected her morosely. "I compounded sin upon sin. I turned my back on God - for the love of a woman, for the love of a child."  
"One of those loves is still waiting for you, Sam. Divine forgiveness, remember? It's not lost to you."  
"I wish I could believe that."  
"Sam - you don't have to believe." Slowly, Phoebe brought her hands upward, close to her face, and began a series of delicate signings. As Wilder watched in puzzlement, Phoebe's features seemed to shimmer and shift, like melting wax; and as the man gaped in astonishment, the figure coalesced again into someone else - a young woman with long, ebony-black hair and wide, soulful eyes. A round face now streaked with tears.  
"Hello, dad," said Paige Matthews, her voice husky with grief.  
"P-Paige?" Wilder asked, disbelieving. "Paige, is that really ... _you?"_  
"Really me," Paige answered, choking back a sob.  
"Not a demon?"  
Paige shook her head tearfully. "No demons here, dad. Just a little glamour spell. Nothing more magical than that."  
"Oh, my child," Wilder moaned in anguish. "My beautiful child. I'm sorry - I'm so sorry -"  
Paige reached for her father's hands. She twined her slender fingers with his rough, calloused ones, and inclined her head until their foreheads were touching.  
"Forgive me -" Wilder tried to speak, but his grief and joy alike stilled his voice.  
"All is forgiven," Paige murmured. "You have nothing to atone for. Not for me."  
As the two of them sat together, hands clasped, two young women stepped forward from a place of concealment behind a nearby copse of trees. They smiled as Wilder looked up.  
"Dad, these are your daughters," Paige said, her voice not much more than a whisper. "This is Phoebe, and this is Prue."  
"Hello, Sam." Prue smiled, a tear of her own trickling down one cheek.  
"It's nice to finally meet you," Phoebe added, leaning over to give the man a quick hug. "Sorry for the magical sleight of hand."  
"Why?"  
Phoebe made a small moue of embarrassment. "We all felt - you might be a little less self-conscious, if you thought you were talking to someone else."  
"You - heard all that?" Wilder regarded them all dubiously.  
"We're witches, Sam. We have our ways."  
Wilder slowly shook his head in grudging admiration. "You girls are just like your mother. I never stood a chance - she just had me on a string. You'll probably do the same."  
"No, Sam, we won't," Prue said quietly. "The only ties that will bind you to us are the ones you tie yourself."  
"We are going to invite you to tie as many as you like, though," Phoebe seconded.  
Wilder looked at his daughter, tears still leaking from the corners of his eyes. "They're good sisters to you."  
Paige nodded, still weeping herself. "The best."  
"You really are Charmed. All of you," Wilder declared. "Well, then, ladies, if you promise not to bind me from orbing, then I promise I'll come back soon - and when I do, I have something to share with all of you. Letters that your mother and I wrote to one another. Probably a decade's worth. I think that will fill in a lot of the gaps in your family history."  
"I _am_ going to see you again?" Paige quavered.  
Sam Wilder smiled tearfully. "Yes, Paige, you will." Hesitantly, he leaned over and paternally kissed her on the forehead. "For better or worse, you're gonna be stuck with your old man now."  
"I would really like that," Paige declared, her voice breaking.  
"Sam?" Prue interjected. "I - I'm getting married. In a couple of weeks. I - _we_ \- would like it very much if you'd come to the wedding."  
"Yeah, dad," Paige exclaimed delightedly. "Come see one of your daughters get married!"  
She shyly held up her hand. "And then in a few months, maybe you can give me away at _my_ wedding?" she asked, a hopeful catch in her voice.  
Wilder seemed momentarily overcome; but he nodded tearfully, joyfully.  
"Do you have some place to stay, Sam?" Phoebe asked quietly.  
Wilder smiled. "Yeah. A place to stay has not been the problem. I just never had anywhere to go - until now."  
"Is this what happiness feels like?" Phoebe grinned.  
Wilder shook his head. "No," he answered thoughtfully. "This is what divine forgiveness feels like."

* * * 

After returning home, Paige summarily flopped herself down on the couch, staring up through the skylights at the deepening orange sunset, the picture of emotional and physical exhaustion. Phoebe hung up her jacket on the peg, then walked into the living room to sit beside her.  
"Sweetie, you okay?" she asked, concerned.  
Paige went so long without answering that Phoebe had almost decided to let her alone; but then her dark-haired sister gave her a tearful smile.  
"My whole life, I was waiting for today," she said quietly. "And - now that it's happened - I just feel ... overwhelmed."  
"I think that's probably an understatement," Phoebe answered, greatly relieved to see that her baby sister hadn't been further traumatized by the afternoon's encounter. "Well, why don't you relax, and once I've attended to some personal business of my own, I'll order us some Chongqing chicken from Ji's."  
"Sounds wonderful," Paige smiled gratefully. "Why? What's so important? Going for an evening jog with the boyfriend?"  
Phoebe's smile showed her exhaustion. "I'm going to call Danny Kershaw, and tell him I've made my decision."  
Paige's eyes went wide. "You gonna do it?" she asked excitedly. "Be an inspector for the San Francisco police force?"  
"Listen for yourself and see," Phoebe grinned.  
As Phoebe got up, Paige tugged at her hand.  
"Hey, Phoebe?"  
"Yeah, Paige."  
"Thank you."  
Paige's eyes were tear-bright, and her smile showed more than just gratitude. Phoebe felt tears of her own welling in her eyes.  
"I love you, Paige Matthews," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "With all my heart."  
She squeezed her sister's hand gently, then walked into the kitchen area, set the phone on the island counter, and perched herself on one of the barstools.  
Phoebe regarded the phone as if it were a rabid animal. Then she shook her head irritably; this vacillation was pointless. She'd made up her mind. Now, she just had to follow through on her decision.  
Sighing heavily, she picked up the receiver, and carefully dialed the number she'd committed to memory a few weeks ago.  
"Danny Kershaw speaking."  
"Hey, Danny, this is Phoebe Halliwell."  
"Phoebe!" The older man's voice brightened instantly. "I hope you're calling to tell me you're ready to join the San Francisco police force."  
"Yes, I am."  
"That's wonderful news!"  
Kershaw's elation did much to buoy Phoebe's confidence in her decision. She smiled gratefully, although obviously Kershaw couldn't see her doing so.  
"I'm going to talk to my boss, Mr. Cowan, on Monday. I need to give him at least two weeks notice. But after that - just tell me where and when to be. I'm all yours."  
"Then I'll talk to our sergeant who handles the new recruits. I'll tell him to be on the lookout for the first cadet to give him a real challenge in years."  
Phoebe burst out laughing. "Oh, God, Danny, don't do that," she pleaded. "I have a feeling this is gonna be hard enough as it is."  
"You're going to do just fine, Phoebe. I have absolutely no doubt of that. I know you're probably feeling a little nervous about this, and I won't lie to you. It is a big step. But our precinct is going to remember this day. We're going to be so lucky to have you with us. Be prepared to make a difference in the world, young lady, because you certainly will."  
"That's what I'm hoping for, Danny."  
"I even have a partner in mind for you. But we can discuss all that later."  
"Just don't pair me with my brother-in-law," Phoebe laughed again.  
"Naww, that ain't happening," Kershaw assured her. "Morris is a headache, but he's my headache. No, I have a young lieutenant in mind for you. Nice girl. Smart. And not scared by any supernatural stuff. The two of you will be a regular Cagney and Lacey."  
Phoebe laughed heartily. "Danny, that show went off the air years ago."  
"I know," the older man sighed disconsolately. "And I still miss it."

* * *

Victor Bennett stood in a carpeted office, silently fuming. More than anything, he hated being made to wait. And he knew that he was being made to wait solely because he hated it.  
"Can we _please_ finish this?" he cried in exasperation.  
The man behind the desk looked up at him through heavy-lidded eyes. There was some vaguely reptilian in his aspect, and when he spoke, his voice was low and sibilant.  
"These things take time, Mr. Bennett," he said calmly. "Your daughter has been infected with a demonic power - _my_ power. And I want it back. I could easily take what I want by simply killing her. To take the power from your daughter and leave her alive and well - that is considerably more difficult. I hope you appreciate that I am going well out of my way to accommodate you."  
"We had a deal."  
"We still do. I simply decided the compensation for my pains was not entirely ... adequate."  
"What do you want now?" Bennett asked through clenched teeth.  
"Actually, I think you will be delighted. I want the daughter of the man who cuckolded you."  
Bennett frowned, too puzzled to be galled by the insult. "Sorry, what?"  
"The man who stole your wife had a child by her. I want that child."  
He gestured with long, bony fingers, and in the air, a simulacrum appeared, framed in fire. A picture of a lovely young woman with soulful eyes and ebony-black hair.  
"Her name is Paige Matthews. Like her sisters, she is Charmed. But she is no family to you. And I want her, in exchange for the excruciating pains it will take to remove my powers from your eldest daughter, without harming her."  
"Why would I care about some stranger?" Bennett shot back. "And why do you think I can get her for you?"  
"Because you can do something I cannot. You can use your daughter's trust to deliver Miss Matthews into my keep."  
Bennett snorted contemptuously. "You obviously need to do a little homework," he retorted. "Prue and I haven't spoken since her first year in college. And we're not exactly on the best of terms."  
"That is your affair, Mr. Bennett. Your estrangement aside, if you wish to keep your child alive, then I strongly suggest you accept the terms that I dictate. Are we agreed?"  
Bennett stared at the man, visibly trembling with anger.  
"Are we agreed, Mr. Bennett?"  
"Yes, all right, I agree, damn you," Bennett spat. "I'll get the Matthews girl for you. And then you'll remove your powers from my daughter, and leave us in peace?"  
"That is the arrangement." There was the barest hint of a smile in the man's features. "And I suggest you hurry. Your daughter's wedding is only a few days away, and there is much work to be done before that time."  
Bennett stalked angrily from the room. The heavy-lidded man watched him go, the faintest trace of a smile on his lips. He reached across the desk and picked up a small globe, made of some polished, blood-red stone. He considered its surface markings carefully, musing thoughtfully as he balanced it between his fingertips. The sphere began to glow from some internal light as he held it.  
"Not long now," he whispered to himself. Clutching the sphere to his chest, he stood up and shimmered away, and as he vanished from sight, the ornate furnishings of the office vanished with him, leaving a bare, empty room. Only Victor Bennett's footprints were visible in the fine layer of dust on the floor.

**Author's Note:**

> "Sins Of The Fathers" is effectively a re-write of the canonical story "Sam, I Am" from the fifth season of "Charmed". That story was written by Monica Breen and Alison Schapker. The character of Sam Wilder first appears in the canonical series in the third season episode "P3 H2O", written by Chris Levinson and Zack Estrin.


End file.
